we hurt instead of healing
by emptyvessels
Summary: Scott and Isaac receive the news of Erica's tragic fate.


This is my first foray into Teen Wolf fan fiction, so I hope it isn't terrible. It was meant to be more a little more Scisaac-y, but I had to make it work given the topic/theme I decided to explore. Also, this is obviously unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine. I do not own Teen Wolf. The title is taken from a Jon McLaughlin song called "Human."

* * *

The storm was over, but the smell of rain still hung around, the air humid and thick, making it harder to breathe. Or maybe it was all the death and loss and misery that made breathing hard. Whichever it was, it wasn't going away any time soon.

The scent should have seemed… less subtle to Scott. More distinct and less normal. Perhaps it just made the whole thing more tragic. Dying and desolation had become so ordinary, so… so _natural_ to Beacon Hills that the scent of it no longer struck Scott quite like it used to. It didn't lessen the blow; it troubled him all the more.

He thought about Erica and the lives that she touched after her transformation. Even though she'd gone from a quiet, sickly wallflower to something confident and domineering overnight, there were times he could still sense the little girl in her, still begging to be noticed and waiting to be loved. He didn't know Erica, not well enough to make any judgments or feel anything more than a lycanthropy-based connection to her, but he felt her loss more than he would have expected to.

Only a few people would mourn the Erica he had come to know, but he was sure almost no one would mourn the old her. _This_ saddened Scott even more.

Isaac was feeling it too. Scott could not only smell the hurt whenever he saw the boy, but he could feel it too. The pain in Isaac's eyes when they met his own, the way his breathing hitched when they'd received the news, the permanent sternness of his face… Scott's heart filled with lead at the sight of him.

"I'll be fine, Scott. It…" his voice wavered as he broke their eye contact. "It's a part of life, you know. People… people go, you know, they _die_. And Erica… Erica was too young, but being a werewolf doesn't make you immortal." Either he'd gotten this from Derek sometime over the course of the last few months, or Isaac just experienced already way too much loss in his young life. Scott's money was on both.

Still, he was right. Being a werewolf didn't make you immortal. It made you stronger. Something different than human. But nothing more than human. You could lift cars and tear down streetlights without so much as breaking a sweat, but you could still be killed. You still had to feel the pain and loss and heartache and sorrow. Being a werewolf didn't exempt _anyone_ from these burdens. You could try as much as you could to fight against whatever human weaknesses you still had in you and just play to the strengths, as Derek does and continuously fails at (though he'd never admit to it), but it didn't change the fact that you were still just a hybrid – half-beast, half-human. Choosing to acknowledge one but not the other was just as dangerous as being completely human and caught in the middle of all this destruction and chaos.

Scott had always known this. Maybe it was his ties to his mom and Stiles and Allison that served as a reminder and kept him whole. God knows he could always count on Allison to humanize him whenever the wolf inside of him tried crawling his way to the surface.

Somehow, he could tell Isaac had always known this too. Even from the beginning, when he was just as vicious as Erica had been, as ruthless and hard as Derek, a part of Isaac must have always known the bite wasn't an infallible guarantee that he could never be hurt again. Over time, he had learned to listen to this side of him and could better control his strength and power, but for some reason, Scott just _knew_. Isaac was more like him than anyone else in Derek's pack, possibly even more so than anyone else he'd ever known. Even Stiles, probably, who was loyal and always tried to help and understand but at the end of the day, really, _really_ never could.

He lowered his head and buried his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, unsure of what to say. He wished he'd had been awarded Stiles' gift with words, but sadly, talking had never been his forte. It was easy with Stiles, most of the time, and with Allison, towards the end of their relationship before Gerard and the whole Kanima thing complicated everything. He was still as socially awkward as he had been before the bite.

"It's probably hitting Boyd worst of all," Isaac spoke again, picking at a piece of lint stuck to his grey t-shirt, desperately finding things to do with his hands. Distress seemed to make him hyper-aware of all of his actions. He flicked the fluff away and met Scott's gaze again. "He and Erica… what they had… I don't know. I know it was something."

"That really sucks," Scott said sincerely, removing his hands from his pockets and folding them across his chest.

The two boys were silent for a few moments. Scott occasionally glanced over at Isaac without turning his head to watch for any changes in his face. They had just gotten back to Scott's house to escape the storm after running around the woods all evening in their wolf forms when they received the news. Things were still pretty tense and weird with his mom for the last few days, but they were starting to get back on track and into swing of their new normal. Derek appeared at his house just minutes after Scott's mom left for her night shift at the hospital. The two of them met him out on the porch.

"Neither of you are answering your phones," he stated, his voice more stern and distant than usual.

"Sorry. We were out," Scott replied, suddenly worried. "What's up?"

"Boyd's back."

"And Erica?" Isaac had asked. He had to ask.

Derek just looked Isaac in the eye and shook his head in response. He spent a few minutes explaining to them what Boyd had told him and nodded towards Isaac sympathetically before leaving. Derek didn't deal with grief or pain very well. At least not so much that he'd let anyone else see. He was probably the only person worse at talking things out than Scott, and that was only because Scott was willing.

Nearly an hour had passed, and they were still out there on the old front porch, now sitting at the top step even though it was still damp with rain.

_Say something, _Scott's inner voice snapped at him. _Tell him you're there for him. That you're gonna miss Erica too. Say _anything_._

Nothing came out.

It was as if Isaac could sense Scott's gaze on him, because he licked his lips and finally spoke without looking at him, his voice firm now. "I've already talked about it, Scott. I have nothing else to say. Eric- She was my friend. My family, even. But there's nothing… Nothing I could have done. Except maybe gone with them. And then where would we be? I'd probably be dead too, and you needed me here." He took a pause and sighed a deep, heavy sigh. "I'm alive because I was needed here. As guilty and sad as I feel about Erica, I don't regret staying."

_You needed me here. I was needed. I don't regret staying._

Scott felt his heart tighten and swell all at once as he recognized the emotion in Isaac's voice. Maybe he didn't regret leaving, but there was so much conflict in his tone that Scott couldn't ignore it. He was happy to feel needed and wanted for once, but he wasn't okay. He may have saved so many lives that night, but he'd also lost one. There was no way it wasn't tearing him apart.

And if it wasn't right now, it would later.

"It's okay to feel conflicted. You can regret and not regret something at the same time," Scott tried his best at being reassuring. "God knows I do. All the time."

Isaac looked at him suddenly, confused, as if he were simultaneously comforted and in disbelief. He didn't say anything, but the look in his eyes thanked Scott as a slight smile formed across his face.

Scott reached over to gently pat Isaac on the back and tried his best to offer whatever he could manage for a smile in return.

Both of them sighed at the same time and stared out into the dark. On a clearer night, it would have been peaceful. Would have been beautiful, even. But tonight, with all of the clouds out and the air so sticky and heavy and grey, it was just… sad.


End file.
